


bleeding hearts (and crying minds)

by makemelovely



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Consensual Underage Sex, F/F, Underage Drinking, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 17:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9833528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makemelovely/pseuds/makemelovely
Summary: You find her on the floor of a bedroom, curled into a ball. She's been crying, and her clothes are rumpled. Her bright purple bra strap has slid down her shoulder and she looks devastated. Devastatingly broken.//or the one where riley looks for prince charming in all the wrong boys





	

When you were seven you used to spend hours in her bedroom, talking about the high school parties you would go to where the boys would ogle you and you wouldn't drink because on the tv shows you probably shouldn't be watching it always ends badly. Always. So she made you promise to never drink at a high school party or ever because it was wrong. She couldn't have done anything wrong, ever. She was so sweet and innocent, like a star. Shining brightly and guiding you home when you get lost.

You both break the promise, of course. Because you think you're adults and adults don't listen to silly promises that silly seven year old girls make.

/\

You spend hours locked in Riley's room, getting dressed and putting on makeup. You're prepared to get drunk so you tie your long golden hair into a bun, messy enough to be casual but tight enough to hold your back when you vomit the alcohol up.

You wear a dark blue dress, one that clings to your waist up and floats out until it reaches mid thigh and stops. You wear black chunky heels and a thin gold bracelet. You wear thick eye liner, and a light lip gloss. You adore the sparkly gold eyeshadow she convinced you to wear. It looks great against the white of your skin and the blue of your eyes.

You don't hold a candle to her, though.

Riley's wearing a black dress with tank top sleeves that are almost thin enough to be a spaghetti strap but not quite enough. Her tan high heels just seem to emphasize her glorious legs. Long, thin, and tan. She's gorgeous, with the way her dark hair spills in a wavy waterfall down her shoulders. Her eyes sparkle brightly with excitement, the dark brown glowing warmly at you. Her eye liner is winged and her lips are lightly glossed. You want to ruin her perfectly applied lip gloss. That knowledge makes your stomach flip and your heart race. You realize in that moment that you love her. More than anything you love her. You think what you love most about her is the shimmery silver eyeshadow that's carefully applied on her eye lids. It looks stunning on her.

You leave the house knowing you're going to get wasted. Absolutely, shit-faced drunk.

/\/\

She pulls you inside, her hand warm against your own clammy one. Her smile is bright and infectious and God, you love her. She begins dancing with a senior after you get your drinks. A beer for her, a rum and coke for you. A little bit of coke, a lot of rum.

She's moving swiftly, bouncing excitedly to the loud, upbeat music that pours through the speakers and pounds through the floorboards. Your body thrums with the force of the music and she looks so content to be dancing with that senior basketball player. You grab another rum and coke.

/\/\/\

It's been hours since you last saw Riley and you need to find her. You stumble your way through room after room, checking for that familiar wave of brown hair and that shock of silver eyeshadow.

You find her on the floor of a bedroom, curled into a ball. She's been crying, and her clothes are rumpled. Her bright purple bra strap has slid down her shoulder and she looks devastated. Devastatingly broken.

"He left after-" her voice trails off into a whimper and she's crying again, her body racked with sobs. You wait until her movements trail off into shaking shoulders.

"It's alright." You say, the words sounding oddly hollow. She doesn't notice. It's shouldn't be alright but it is because it's Riley and she gets a free fucking pass. Your bitter, and jealous, and so tired of loving her without any reason.

You walk her home despite the fact you're stumbling, and drunk, and there are three versions of Riley walking next to you. You tuck her into bed and get her some Advil for the hangover she'll have in the morning. You leave with a soothing kiss on her forehead, so tender it stings.

/\

The week afterwards it happens again. You knew it would. It's your Friday night tradition. Riley looks for Prince Charming in the only way she knows how and it leaves her broken. Every time.

/\/\

It happens every Friday night.

/\/\/\

You love her.

/\

Every Friday night.

/\/\

Loving her is killing you.

/\/\/\

She doesn't mind.

/\

So you love her in the only was you can. By drinking all night and helping her home after she fucks up again.

You don't mind.

You're lying.


End file.
